Don't Be Hasty
by Anniah
Summary: Ron watches helplessly as Hermione falls for his older brother. A short songfic written to the song Jenny, Don't Be Hasty by Paolo Nutini.


**Don't Be Hasty**

_You said you'd marry me if I was 23  
>But I'm one that you can't see if I'm only 18<em>

Hermione laughed and everyone turned to look. It was not the laugh in itself that was the cause of attention but her action, the way she threw her head back, the tilt to her chin, the melodic, seducing lilt to the chuckle. The summer sun kissed her cheeks, a blush spreading as he placed a hand on her knee. The rest of the Weasleys looked on but none of them were finding the same amusement as Hermione. Molly Weasley frowned, stopping midway between passing a plate of sandwiches to her youngest child, glancing furtively at her brood in turn, eyes finally resting on Ron.

His face glowed a bright red, a fact he tried to cover by jumping up with a mumbled excuse and running into the house. There was a shocked silence that was broken by the murmurs of the two culprits, who were oblivious to the drama in the background.

"You did not!" she giggled, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Ginny narrowed her eyes. _Was Hermione Granger _actually _flirting?_

"I did! I just walked right up to the blighter, stunned him - bang - between the eyes and he fell down like a tree. Almost got squashed right beneath him. Anyway, that's how I got this one," he said, lifting his shirt to reveal a tanned torso and a shiny scar running ten inches along his side.

"That's so brave," she said, tracing his scar teasingly. Ginny locked eyes with Harry and mimed being sick into her salad. He gave a guffaw, snapping Hermione's attention back to her friends. Her hazel eyes scanned the faces of the people present, most owning bright red hair that shimmered like copper in the afternoon sun.

"Where's Ron?" she asked with a slight frown. Fred and George grinned widely.

"He's probably sulking-"

"-in his room."

"Whatever for? Should I go see him?"

"No!" Ginny almost yelled. "That would be a bad idea."

"Is he ill?"

"You could say that," Ginny muttered, stabbing a tomato sourly. Hermione looked confused as the twins burst into laughter and Molly began to pass food about, distracting them all with offers of sausage rolls and lemonade. Charlie enticed Hermione into another story of caring for dragons, pointing to numerous scars, eyes shining when she pursed her lips into a worried 'oh' and said: "Did it hurt very much?"

As day stretched into night and the air became laden with the scent of night blossoms she found Ron down by the pond, stretched out and staring up at the dimming sky. She sat down beside him, crossing her legs. Recently she often made him angry without knowing why and he would never explain to her, just turn away, his face red. Ginny told Hermione it was because he felt lonely. _What did that mean? He was surrounded by his friends and family._

They waited together in silence, faces pointing towards the sky, watching small clouds scud across the open heavens.

"He's so much older than you," Ron sighed, breaking the silence and rolling over onto his side to look at his best friend. Hermione smiled a shy smile.

"But he's _so_ mature and he has all these fantastic experiences." Ron snorted.

"And we haven't?"

"You _know_ what I mean. I don't _want _to hear about the war anymore. I want to hear about funny stories and strange experiences, not about death and torture and evil."

"So what I have to say doesn't interest you?" Hermione looked at him in surprise.

"What _has_ got into you, Ron. Have I done something wrong?" He snorted again, causing Hermione to furrow her brow.

"Flirting with someone seven years older than you isn't wrong now? You're only eighteen and he's . . . he's-"

"A great deal more grown up than you," she snapped, instantly regretting it. He jumped up onto his feet, making to stalk away but she grabbed his hand. "I'm sorry, don't go, Ron," she pleaded making him falter.

"So would you like me if I was twenty-three?" he asked suddenly, whipping around. She took a step back, blinking in surprise.

"What?"

"You know, would you like me if I was older?"

"I – I don't know what you want me to say to that." Ron kicked the ground, scuffing the early fallen leaves.

"I didn't think so," he muttered before stalking off.

_Tell me who makes the rules  
>Obviously not you<br>Who are you answering to?_

"Why don't you just ask her out, Ron? What's the worst that could happen?" Harry said as they sat in Ron's bright orange bedroom, playing wizard chess and listening to the bangs coming from Fred and George's bedroom two floors down. Ron's ears burned red, his hand poised over his queen.

"I can't do that." The queen took a bishop, leaving a path open to Harry's king. The black haired boy paused to contemplate, rubbing his chin.

"Why not?" A rook moved to block the path. Ron sighed, ruffling his shaggy hair in irritation.

"Aren't there rules on dating your best friend?" Harry had his gaze fixed on the board but now he glanced up, on the verge of laughing at his best friend.

"Where do you get these ideas from, mate?" Ron glanced over his shoulder, making sure that one of his brothers was not passing along the doorway at that moment or that a pair of extendible ears were not winding their way up the staircase as they spoke.

"I read one of Ginny's magazines once. I think it was a _Witch Weekly._" Harry did laugh at this point, shaking his head in amusement. "I was _bored. _Anyway, it had this article in it: _Ten reasons why you shouldn't date your best friend._ There was some complicated stuff in there. I didn't know girls thought so seriously about stuff like that." Harry laughed again.

"Like what?"

"Apparently if you go out with your best friend and you break up, it ruins the friendship. I don't want to ruin mine and Hermione's friendship."

"You're thinking too much about it. Check." Ron seemed to have lost all interest in the game.

"And it said that other close friends will feel left out." Harry shook his head.

"I'm not bothered. In fact it would make me _happy_ if you two went out."

"And your best friend already knows all the bad things about you, all the bad things you've done, so they can hold it against you in an argument. I asked Ginny and she said it was a general rule among girls to not date their best guy friends." Harry looked at Ron aghast. "Don't blame me! I didn't make up the stupid rules!" Ron said, holding his hands up.

"It's all bull, mate," Harry said, resetting the board.

_Oh, Jenny don't be hasty  
>No, don't treat me like a baby<em>

She was laughing again, that sweet scintillating sound. He wished she would laugh like that with him. He couldn't quite see as she leant against the tree trunk but he could see his own brother leaning close, twisting one of her beautiful curls around his rough finger and whispering something across her blushing cheek. _How many times had he dreamed of doing that?_

Ron felt an anger burning in his stomach as he crouched there, watching them from a distance like some peeping-tom. _His own brother!_ But he expected Charlie was oblivious, he was always oblivious to anything other than his dragons and the nearest pretty girl. But when he bent down and kissed her, Ron's stomach churned and he had to get up and move away, move far away, the burning image of their bodies pressed together seared into his brain.

"Why were you so quick to let him kiss you?" he asked. Hermione narrowed her eyes, peeling a potato rather roughly. Molly had roped them into cooking the dinner together, perhaps as a ploy to improve the awkward silence surrounding them both; and neither had the guts to refuse the matriarch of the Weasley family.

"Were you watching me?" Hermione hissed.

"No!" he said, a little too quickly. "I just happened to glance over. I think it's a bad idea, you and Charlie. The whole family thinks it's a bad idea." Hermione scowled.

"I don't care what you think. _I_ like him, if you have a problem with that Ronald, you'll just have to tell someone else about it because _I_ don't want to hear."

"All I'm saying is you shouldn't be so quick. He'll get tired of you sooner or later, he always does." Hermione's face fell but she quickly schooled into to an expression of indifference.

"Don't you worry about me, Ron. I don't expect you to understand," she said in a condescending voice, patting him on the cheek. He stared at her in disbelief. _Where did she get off, treating him like a baby?_

_Let me take you where you let me  
>Because leaving just upsets me<em>

Ron stumbled over the suitcase as he emerged down the staircase, yawning through half-closed eyes.

"What the-"

"Mind your step," Hermione called, emerging from the kitchen holding a parcel wrapped in brown paper.

"What's going on?" Ron asked, sniffing for the tell-tale sign of bacon frying and being sorely disappointed.

"I'm going home. So if you don't mind, could you move out the way so I could finish packing, please?" Hermione had been in a bad mood for several days now, and it seemed that it had not improved overnight.

"You're going already?"

"Oh, Ron, I've been here for three weeks now and I have to see my parents at some point over the summer," she said, patting him on the arm.

"But it was the plan! Me, you and Harry were going to spend the summer together." Hermione looked down.

"Yes, well things change, Ron. I'm going home." Ron grabbed her arm.

"Why don't we go away together? We could have an adventure like we used to. We could go anywhere, anywhere you wanted."

"Just the three of us again?" There was something that sparked to life in Hermione's eyes, like the first star at night. Ron wanted to say '_no, just the two of us'_ but instead, filled with hope, he simply nodded.

"Yeah, just like old times." Hermione seemed to be seriously contemplating it, glancing out of the window to the open fields, golden in the morning sun. But then she shook her head. The starlight in her eyes died.

"Maybe some other time, Ron. I need to go home for a while. But I'll come back soon, I promise." She hugged him, longer than usual and with a sad sigh as she pulled away.

They gathered around in the yard, the whole Weasley family, as Hermione said her goodbyes, preparing to apparate back home. She hugged them all, one after another, giving Ron and Harry a kiss on the cheek each. Ron was waiting for her to get to Charlie, to give him a kiss that would shock the whole family. But instead they just looked at each other for a second, Hermione with a frown, Charlie with an apologetic look on his face. There was an awkward murmured goodbye. Then she was gone without a glance.

He waited and waited, wondering why she didn't answer his owls, why she was suddenly so silent, why she broke her promise, why she didn't come back . . .

_Now it sounds like you've just left me  
>And it kills me!<em>

* * *

><p><strong>A.N.<strong>_ A story I wrote for a songfic competition a long time ago but never posted. I discovered it and decided to post it. If anyone didn't guess, the song is __**Jenny, Don't Be Hasty **__by Paolo Nutini._

_Hope you enjoyed,_

_Anna_


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